You can't tell the difference between imagining Barack Obama is somehow different from imagining that someone else is named 'Barack Obama?' Really? And you don't see this as lacking a basic cognitive capacity?

If Barack Obama were different he would not be Barack Obama. It's the law of identity: A=A. I can imagine somebody that is very similar to Barack Obama, but possessing one or more different properties, if that's what you are trying to say.

@andrewk Use @ followed by the name in quotes (the quotes are then automatically removed).

I'm interested in your thoughts on my post, as I think the perspective of someone that is not committed to a materialist ontology (which (being uncommitted) is my position and, IIRC, yours), towards Kripke's designator notions, may be quite different from that of someone that is so committed. — andrewk

I don't think it has much to do with ontology. You can just think about it in terms of conceptual models if you like. If there's some element that's either unique to a model or shared between many models, and if there's a term that refers only (and always) to that element, then that term is a rigid designator (but that's not to say that different rigid designators can't have the same spelling and pronunciation, of course, e.g. if there are two men called "Barack Obama").

If Barack Obama were different he would not be Barack Obama. It's the law of identity: A=A. I can imagine somebody that is very similar to Barack Obama, but possessing one or more different properties, if that's what you are trying to say. — andrewk

I don't think that Barack Obama being the president is a necessary part of his identity, though. Although in one sense we might say that he's not the same man he was before he became president, in another sense it's correct to say that he is the same man (i.e. that he isn't two different people). To say that the man who is the president once wasn't the president seems to be both sensible and true.

I don't think that Barack Obama being the president is a necessary part of his identity, though. Although in one sense we might say that he's not the same man he was before he became president, in another sense it's correct to say that he is the same man (i.e. that he isn't two different people). To say that the man who is the president once wasn't the president seems to be both sensible and true. — Michael

I agree. I regard people, and objects more generally, as processes. So the event that is the human called BO doing POTUS things in 2016 is a part of the same process (which we could call a 'man') as the event that is a little boy called BO learning to read with his mother at the age of three.

Where I seem to differ from the views of a number of people in this thread is that I believe that when people say 'Imagine if BO could speak fluent Mandarin', what they mean is 'Imagine if we lived in a different world that was the same as this in almost every respect, and had a POTUS called BO that was almost identical to the one in our world, except that that one could speak fluent Mandarin.'.

It's always risky to make statements about what others mean. So to soften that, let me say that what I mean by the previous paragraph is that, if when people say 'Imagine if BO could speak fluent Mandarin' they don't mean the interpretation I gave, then I have no idea what they mean.

Given that interpretation, whether BO is a rigid designator seems to be a matter of arbitrary choice, with no meaningful consequences. We can declare that the imaginary, Mandarin-speaking person is BO, so that the name BO is a reference to either the real one or the imaginary one. Or we could declare they are not. It makes no difference (Or so it seems to me).

Doesn't this then entail that every counterfactual claim about a real thing is a contradiction? If I claim that Barack Obama might have spoken Mandarin had he taken Mandarin classes, and if Barack Obama just is that thing (or process, if you prefer) that doesn't speak Mandarin (and is the president, among other things), then I'm claiming that in some possible world there's a non-Mandarin speaking thing that speaks Mandarin.

It's always risky to make statements about what others mean. So to soften that, let me say that what I mean by the previous paragraph is that, if when people say 'Imagine if BO could speak fluent Mandarin' they don't mean the interpretation I gave, then I have no idea what they mean. — andrewk

I'll affirm that you don't have any idea what TGW meant. Nevertheless, his explanation of rigid designators was a fair assessment of Kripke's intentions.. which was the topic of the OP.

I would interpret the claim as follows:

I (Michael) can imagine a world that is like this one in almost every respect, except that the person very like BO, who is named BO in that world and became POTUS, learned Mandarin.

That's what people seem to mean when they use counterfactuals like '.... if BO spoke Mandarin ...'.

If anybody wants to offer a different interpretation, that would be fascinating and I'd love to discuss it.

Where I seem to differ from the views of a number of people in this thread is that I believe that when people say 'Imagine if BO could speak fluent Mandarin', what they mean is 'Imagine if we lived in a different world that was the same as this in almost every respect, and had a POTUS called BO that was almost identical to the one in our world, except that that one could speak fluent Mandarin.'. — andrewk

Why would people mean something so at odds with what they say? That seems like a really bizarre reconstruction. Surely, if I say to imagine something about Barack Obama, I mean to imagine something about Barack Obama, not 'a man almost the same as him in every respect...etc., etc..' If I meant that, presumably I would say that.

I guess what I'm saying is, the fact that you can, or think you do, reinterpret what people say into a highly idiosyncratic metaphysical system has no bearing on what the words actually mean. A far more plausible hypothesis is that in imagining that Barack Obama could speak Mandarin, you are imagining that Barack Obama, not someone else, could. It seems very bizarre to me to say we can't ever actually imagine anyone as different from the way they actually are, that we must instead construct additional creatures similar to them in some respect. Whether you personally are committed to such a picture for whatever reason, I fail to see why anyone should be persuaded by it.

Also, notice it again becomes nonsense to say things like 'If Barack Obama had a different name...'

Well, consider that right now I could say "I might win the lottery on Saturday" and "I might not win the lottery on Saturday". Surely in both cases I'm talking about me in a possible future, not just someone who is a lot like me. I don't see why I can't make the same sort of claim about a possible past (e.g. "I could have won last Saturday, even though I didn't").

What of something like "imagine if the Earth were a star rather than a planet"? It seems to me that this is a nonsensical counterfactual. Perhaps this is the sort of thing that @andrewk is thinking of when it comes to a counterfactual claim about Barack Obama not being the president or speaking Mandarin?

Perhaps it just comes down to a disagreement over which properties are necessary and which are contingent. And, I wonder, what makes it the case that being a planet or being the president is one or the other?

I think those are different from the other statements discussed, because they are not counterfactuals. I interpret those statements epistemologically. When I say 'I might win the lottery next Saturday' I mean 'It would not cause me to revise my theory of how the world works, or to conclude that I had misread the current state of the world (made faulty observations), if I were to win the lottery next Saturday'. A possible future is simply a future event that is not ruled out of contention by current observations and currently known theories of science.

It would not cause me to revise my theory of how the world works, or to conclude that I had misread the current state of the world (made faulty observations), if I were to win the lottery next Saturday — andrewk

Does the "I" there refer to you or to someone who is like you? If the former then you understand the concept of referring to yourself as being something other than what you are right now (in this case, as a lottery winner). Isn't that enough to make sense of rigid designators?

It refers to me. It can be rendered without the conditional by saying 'I have bought a ticket in this week's lottery, and I am at this point in time unable to predict whether this week's lottery winner is me.'

Referring to last week's lottery, we can say 'I bought a ticket in last week's lottery and, prior to the draw, I was unable to predict whether that week's lottery winner would be me.'

It's only when this week I want to consider a counterfactual in which I did win last week's lottery, that I need to consider alternative worlds, and people like me in those worlds.

It refers to me. It can be rendered without the conditional by saying 'I have bought a ticket in this week's lottery, and I am at this point in time unable to predict whether this week's lottery winner is me.'

Referring to last week's lottery, we can say 'I bought a ticket in last week's lottery and, prior to the draw, I was unable to predict whether that week's lottery winner would be me.'

It's only when this week I want to consider a counterfactual in which I did win last week's lottery, that I need to consider alternative worlds, and people like me in those worlds. — andrewk

We don't need to consider counterfactuals to consider possible worlds. We can just consider possible futures if you like. When you use the term "I" to talk about yourself in a number of possible futures (one where you win the lottery, one where you don't, one where you win twice, etc.) the term "I" is a rigid designator that refers always and only to you. If you were to claim "I might win the lottery tomorrow", that claim is made true if and only if you win the lottery tomorrow. It's false if anyone else wins because the term "I" doesn't refer to them. Whereas with a claim like "someone will win the lottery tomorrow", the term "someone" isn't a rigid designator as that claim will be made true if I win or if you win or if anyone else wins.

That makes sense to me. If the notion of 'rigid designator' were confined to 'possible future worlds' then it would be a coherent concept. Statements that 'X might happen to me' are statements about my current state of knowledge about future events in this process that I call 'me'. The reference to this process is rigid.

It's when it is applied to counterfactuals that it seems to become incoherent. The process that I (perhaps rigidly) refer to as 'me' did not win the lottery of date 7 December 2016, so if I wish to talk about a process that wins the lottery of date 7 December 2016, that must be some other process. It can be a process in an imaginary world that is similar to this in almost every respect except those relating to the lottery, but it cannot be this process.

The process that I (perhaps rigidly) refer to as 'me' did not win the lottery of date 7 December 2016, so if I wish to talk about a process that wins the lottery of date 7 December 2016, that must be some other process. It can be a process in an imaginary world that is similar to this in almost every respect except those relating to the lottery, but it cannot be this process. — andrewk

True. The actual you didn't win the lottery. If assertions you make include a phrase like ".. in the actual world" then you aren't using rigid designation as a tool and your proposition is necessarily true or false (see Scott Soames' Actually )

When using rigid designation, the concept of actuality doesn't intrude much (as it doesn't when we think in terms of logical possibility.)

I just don't see why that's nonsensical. It seems to me the insistence on counterparts comes from thinking individuals are conglomerates of properties rather than just referential pegs to hang properties on. The latter point of view is much less complicated and gels much better with ordinary language, though of course our credulity stretches at its limits – we might ask, okay, then in what sense is it 'the same thing?' The answer is this is a dumb question: we stipulate that it's the same ex hypothesi, and such continuity is all it means for it to be the same thing. This may result in some odd consequences of haecceticism, but these are probably only odd because we have little need to imagine counterfactuals that differ so far from the actual situation and lose our grip on what the consequences of these far-reaching changes would be.

It's when it is applied to counterfactuals that it seems to become incoherent. The process that I (perhaps rigidly) refer to as 'me' did not win the lottery of date 7 December 2016, so if I wish to talk about a process that wins the lottery of date 7 December 2016, that must be some other process. It can be a process in an imaginary world that is similar to this in almost every respect except those relating to the lottery, but it cannot be this process. — andrewk

This is basically an assertion that nothing could be other than exactly as it actually is, which is not going to be a helpful metaphysical thesis for examining natural language. Rigid designation is a matter of accounting for the behavior of referential expressions more than it is a metaphysical thesis, though Kripke thought it had consequences for the latter.

Where your metaphysical theses require you to make highly implausible claims about language, such as that we can't suppose that something were other than how it is, my inclination would be to abandon that thesis, at least where within a mile of accounting for natural language. But it's up to you.

This is basically an assertion that nothing could be other than exactly as it actually is — The Great Whatever

Whether or not I agree to that depends on what the 'could' in that sentence means.

I think when people say things 'could have turned out differently', they just mean they would not have been astonished if they had turned out differently. With that meaning, I think things 'could have happened differently'.

How do you interpret the sentence 'That could have turned out differently' (or perhaps a concrete example thereof, to make it more tractable)?

Perhaps it just comes down to a disagreement over which properties are necessary and which are contingent. And, I wonder, what makes it the case that being a planet or being the president is one or the other? — Michael

It seems that way to me. That then leads us in the direction of Aristotelian essences. Under that approach Barack Obama is any process in any possible world that has the 'essential/necessary properties' of BO, but which need not have the nonessential/contingent ones.

Does one have to subscribe to an essence-based metaphysics in order to make sense of Kripke's approach to counterfactuals? If so then I suppose that leaves me out. I had to give up in believing in essences decades ago when I realised I just couldn't persuade myself any longer that the small, circular, odourless, tasteless wafer at communion really was the bleeding, crucified body of Christ.

If an essentialist approach is not required, then the question remains: what does it mean to say that a human-like organism in another possible world, that shares many of the properties of the BO of this world, is Barack Obama? Or, more crudely, what is the difference between a BO-like organism in an alternative possible world that is BO, and one that is not?

I don't really understand your modus operandi, which seems to consist of taking sentences and insist that they mean, or are to be translated into, other sentences.

I don't know where you got the idea that I'm insisting on anything. I'm asking you what you think the sentence means.

I don't at all buy a (real) distinction between essential and accidental properties. So if rigid designation has something to do with that, that would help explain why it doesn't make much sense to me and why it seems untenable insofar as it does make sense.

I just don't see why that's nonsensical. It seems to me the insistence on counterparts comes from thinking individuals are conglomerates of properties rather than just referential pegs to hang properties on. The latter point of view is much less complicated and gels much better with ordinary language, though of course our credulity stretches at its limits – we might ask, okay, then in what sense is it 'the same thing?' The answer is this is a dumb question: we stipulate that it's the same ex hypothesi, and such continuity is all it means for it to be the same thing. This may result in some odd consequences of haecceticism, but these are probably only odd because we have little need to imagine counterfactuals that differ so far from the actual situation and lose our grip on what the consequences of these far-reaching changes would be. — The Great Whatever

It seems me, then, that if we're to make sense of counterfactuals then we can't be a realist about identity. Identity is a linguistic/conceptual imposition. Unless these referential pegs/this haecceity is some mind-independent thing?

If an essentialist approach is not required, then the question remains: what does it mean to say that a human-like organism in another possible world, that shares many of the properties of the BO of this world, is Barack Obama? Or, more crudely, what is the difference between a BO-like organism in an alternative possible world that is BO, and one that is not? — andrewk

This seems to touch on the ship of Theseus paradox. What makes it the case that the ship that left is the same ship that returned (if anything)? I'd say that our conceptual/linguistic imposition (we think about and talk about it as being the same ship) is what makes it the same ship. We model it as being the same ship. As TGW says, we simply stipulate ex hypothesi that it's the same ship. That's all the "essence" there is.

And so by the same token, we do the same with Barack Obama.

I think the problem only arises when you try to be a realist about identity, which is why things like the ship of Theseus paradox and the Sorites paradox (and counterfactuals, as you're trying to explain) are only a problem for the realist.

The human mind comes standard with two opposing views of actual events: that every one is necessary (and so determinism) vs they are not necessary (which opens the door to volition.) The one that logic seems to march inevitably toward is determinism. The opposing view is a little more mind-bending and that's phil of mind.

Kripke's deal is not so grandiose as to try to resolve these puzzles. It's in the nature of AP to bite off little pieces and enjoy them without worrying about some giant master plan. So if rigid designators seem crazy it may be a case of way over estimating Kripke's ambitions.

I don't see why this follows.

I think it means what it says, which is different from what you seem to think it means. I'm just puzzled as to why.

I really wish people would read about things before criticizing them. IDK, this discussion is pointless if you don't know what a rigid designator is, and it's not even hard to go find out instead of wasting all this ink.